


Take My Love

by Hinn_Raven



Series: You Can't Take the Sky From Me [3]
Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Space, Child Abuse, Childhood Sweethearts, Donut Siblings, F/F, F/M, Healing, Look it's the Academy it's only in one chapter really, Multi, Psychic Abilities, Psychic Bond, Recovery, Threesome - F/F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2018-12-19 11:12:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hinn_Raven/pseuds/Hinn_Raven
Summary: Allison Texas is a wanted woman. She stole something very valuable from the Alliance. And even if it's going to bring a world of trouble down on their heads, Carolina can't help but think it might be worth it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sroloc_Elbisivni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sroloc_Elbisivni/gifts).



> Continuation of the Firefly AU! Fair warning to those who might not have read my Donut Siblings series, one of my OCs from that series features pretty heavily in this entry. It's pretty self-indulgent. All you really need to know is that Wash has three sisters, Jackie is the youngest of them (Donut is younger than her still) and Jackie is the "smart one".

Carolina feels like she knew Texas from somewhere, but she has no idea _where_.

The woman is built solidly, her hair blonde and cropped into an efficient bob, her mouth a thin, stubborn line. She wears shirts with high necks and long sleeves, but she can’t hide her hands, and Carolina sees a myriad of scars there. Texas is a fighter. And she’s either really good or really bad, judging from the scars.

Given the way Texas holds herself, Carolina can’t help but doubt the woman’s a bad fighter.

But she doesn't wear any logo, any badge or sign, not even a hint in her color scheme. Texas wears all black, and only black. She could be anyone, pledge loyalty to any group, and Carolina couldn’t tell.

Carolina can’t justify searching a paying passenger’s luggage, but she doesn’t doubt she’d find dozens of guns there if she did. She just doesn’t get _why_. Mercs usually have their own transport, they don’t need to smuggle themselves to their jobs on transport freighters. Especially not ones like hers.

Sarge, sitting up late at night with her, pours her another cup of the good tea and listens to her, nodding solemnly when she’s done.  
“She’s trouble, that one,” the old preacher says. “But don’t let her distract you from what’s really important. It might not be _our_ trouble.”

Carolina laughs, feeling the exhaustion seeping into her bones. “Since when does trouble pass us by, shepherd?”

The man chuckles and drops a precious drop of sugar into her tea. “Maybe you’ve got a point.”

The gunfire begins a few hours later, when Carolina is up in the cockpit with Tucker. The distinctive sound of a pistol firing breaks the quiet of the ship’s night-cycle and Carolina leaps to her feet in moments, her sidearm drawn and she runs towards the sound of the noise. It’s coming from towards the shuttles, and her heart thuds in her chest. _York_.

The gun goes off again, and Carolina hears shouting. It’s the cargo bay. She shoves down her relief, and barrels past Grif and Simmons.

“Did you really think you could get away, Tex?” Wyoming, their other passenger is asking, even as he fires off another shot. Carolina’s heart speeds up as she recognizes the gun. He’s an assassin. An _Alliance_ assassin. On _her_ ship.

Tex is unscathed, and furious. She moves like lightning, shockingly fast for her size, dodging bullets as she makes her way towards Wyoming.

“Does it look like I _care_?” Texas snaps.

“You should,” Wyoming tuts. “You know, if you’d just turn over your cargo and surrender, I’m sure we can smooth things out.”

“No way in _hell_!” Texas yells, and she charges. Carolina takes a moment to glance at the huge, heavy crate that Texas had brought with her.

So... _that's_ where she can find the answer.

Carolina turns her attention back to the fight just in time to see Tex snap Wyoming’s neck with her bare hands.

* * *

“What’s in the crate, Texas?” Wash keeps his gun trained on her, Carolina by his side. He gestures for Caboose to move towards the crates.

Tex’s hands are clenched at her side, Wyoming still crumpled at her feet. “That’s none of your business,” she snaps. “It’s private.”

“It brought a trained killer onto my ship,” Carolina says, face dangerously blank. “I think that makes it my business.”

Tex turns towards Caboose, only having just realized what he was about to do. “No, don’t!”

But Caboose seizes the lid of the crate and pulls it off like it’s nothing, and he gasps.

“Carolina! There are _people_ in the tiny box!”

Wash feels himself go even colder. “Slaving?” He snaps.

The crate, meanwhile, collapses, damaged by Caboose ripping it apart. As the walls fall down, steam fills the air, and two figures are visible, curled up next to each other.

When the air clears, Wash recognizes one of them. His grip on his gun goes so tight he almost squeezes the trigger unintentionally.

“Donut!” He yells, because he knows his brother is seeing what he’s seeing.

Donut practically vaults down from the upper deck, skirting around quickly before kneeling in the remains of the crate.

“Don’t!” Tex snarls, looking like she’s one second away from lunging at Donut. Wash cocks his gun pointedly.

“Don’t move,” he says, and he knows that there wouldn’t be even a second’s hesitation in shooting her.

Jackie’s eyes open, and she sits up with a gasp. “David!”

Wash doesn’t move, doesn’t take his eyes off Tex.

“Jackie?” Donut asks, quietly, and then he pauses. “Wash, she’s covered in blood.”

“Frank!” Jackie grabs him. “Frank, you’re here!” She pauses, and looks around. “Tex?”

“I’m here,” Tex calls. “Jackie, stay where you are, okay? It’s all going to be fine.”

Jackie freezes, finally seeming to see the room for the first time. “Guns,” she whispers, looking very pale. Her eyes land on Wyoming, and she screams.

“Church!”

The man sits upright, and tries to pull Jackie away from Donut.

“They’re here! They’re here! They found us again!”

The man clutches at his head, but he’s staring at Carolina. Wash realizes, for the first time, how green his eyes are.

“Carolina?”

Carolina’s aim at Tex doesn’t waver.

“What is going on?” Carolina demands.

Tex is staring at Carolina. “So you’re the sister, huh?” She crosses her arms. “What’s it look like? This is a rescue. Which you lot just interrupted.”

* * *

Texas is pacing, snarling, when they open the door.

“What do you want?” Tex demands, eyes narrow. Wash keeps his gun out. He remembers seeing Tex fight Wyoming. She’s good. He doesn’t want to let her get the drop on him.

“Answers,” Carolina says. “What happened to Church and Jackie?”

Tex’s lip curls unpleasantly. “What does it _look like_?”

“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking!” Carolina snaps.

Tex shrugs, looking bored. “They were torturing them mainly, from what I could tell. Don’t know why. Didn’t ask.”

“You didn’t ask?” Wash asks, incredulous.

“They asked me to get them out, so I got them out!” Tex snaps. “They just said they needed me; they didn’t exactly give me a memo!”

“They. _Asked_. You?” Carolina sounds dangerous, but Wash has known her long enough to hear the hurt as well.

Tex’s gaze sharpens. She noticed it too. “Guess they thought I was the only one they could trust to get them out of there,” she says.

“How do you even know them?” Wash demands, ignoring the words. “Jackie never mentioned you.”

Tex’s eyebrow shoots up. “She never mentioned Allison?”

Wash stares, wide-eyed. _Fuck_. She did. Leonard and Allison. Jackie’s two friends back at the Academy. _The_ friends.

Carolina is standing similarly still. “Where were they?”

Texas watches them closely, as if looking for something. “They called it the Academy.”

* * *

Jackie meets Church on the first day of school.

“That’s my spot,” a voice tells her, and she looks up from where she’s curled up under the table with a book, frowning.

“I was here first,” she says, too quietly. She doesn’t know what to do. David’s not here. Mitch isn’t here. Martha’s not here. What’s she supposed to do without them being there to help her?

“But it was _my spot_ ,” the boy says. He has eyes so green they look like leaves and messy dark hair and glasses that are too big for his face. But his uniform is nice and expensive looking, so Jackie knows he’s not a colony kid like her. He _belongs_ here.

Jackie’s uniform is two sizes too large for her and second hand at that, but she’s not going to get pushed around by a boy an inch shorter than her. She’s too proud for that. “I was here first,” she says, stronger this time. Firmer. She’s not going to start backing down from every fight just because she can’t hide behind David and Mitch anymore.

Then she notices the bruise on his jaw. _Oh_. He’s like her. Maybe he’s hiding too. “But we can share?” She offers, tentatively. She tries smiling at him, but she’s not sure if she’s looking inviting or awkward or both. Her grip on her book tightens, just in case he’s not like her and will try to hit her. She’s been wrong before. She’s trying to correct that. She doesn’t like being wrong about people.

He gives her a weird look. “You’re one of those new scholarship kids, aren’t you?”

Jackie’s chin juts out, pretending that the words don’t sting. Back home, the scholarship had been something to be proud of. The entire Council had congratulated her and her siblings had cheered. No one from Iowa had ever gotten a scholarship _this_ good before. Not even David’s scholarship to the military school was half as prestigious. But here, _scholarship_ is a bad word. It means poor, it means Rim, it means _Jackie_. “So?” Jackie tries to channel Martha, tries to make her eyes flash dangerously, tries to make herself seem bigger and stronger. It doesn’t really work when she’s hiding under a table.

He gets down on his knees and crawls under the table next to her. “I’m Church,” he says, and he offers her a smile that looks just as tentative and nervous as she feels. His eyes are even prettier up close. She’s never seen eyes that color before.

“Jackie,” she replies, glancing down before he notices her staring. He’s reading a big physics textbook, and Jackie feels better about the thick psychology tract she’s been clutching against her chest.

He really _is_ like her.

They both turn to their books and start to read in comfortable silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for following along with this self-indulgent nonsense! <3 
> 
> Just a tiny warning for this chapter, this is high school. Feelings get hurt. People are asses. Also, more world building about Jackie's (and Wash's and Donut's) home planet! Fun times!

The day after they meet, another boy steals Church’s glasses so Jackie kicks him in the shin. 

She gets a bloody lip for that, but Church manages to grab his glasses and they go hide in the library. Not under the table this time, but on top of the thickest, widest shelves, perching out of sight and out of reach. . 

“Why’d you do that?” He demands, glaring at her. “That was fucking dumb!” 

Jackie stares at him, frowning. “You shouldn’t use that word, you’ll get in trouble,” she says. 

“You’ll get in fucking trouble!” He yells, throwing his hands into the air. “It wasn’t a big deal, it’s just glasses!” 

Jackie stares at him. “They’re  _ expensive _ ,” she says. The last time one of her bullies broke her glasses, it meant no new books or clothes for three months. Her family back in Iowa was stable, was comfortable, but there was never money for extras. 

Church looks at her, confused. Then his mouth closes. “Oh.” He shifts, uncomfortable. “I can afford it,” he says. “Really.” 

And that’s when Jackie is reminded that he’s from a whole other world. Things are different, here. 

“Oh,” she says, and she feels her cheeks heat up. 

Church grins at her, clearly trying to distract her, but she’ll take it. And never mention it, because even after knowing Church for only a day, she knows he’ll deny it. “Can’t believe you kicked that guy though. Did you see his face?”

Jackie smiles back, clutching her books to her chest. 

“Still was fucking dumb,” he tells her. 

“You’re such a jerk,” she sighs. 

It’s an important thing to know about Leonard Church, she realizes later. 

* * *

Two months later, Church tells her about Tex, who punched a guy in the face for him. “It was  _ awesome _ ,” he tells her, eyes wide and eager. He doesn’t shut up about her for a whole week, before Jackie finally gets to meet her, and sees what Church is talking about.

Tex is a whole year older than them, and she’s taller than Jackie by two full inches. Her hair is long and blonde and she’s got hard brown eyes and eyebrows that always seem sharp and angled, even when she’s laughing. She’s one of the kids who are going to be soldiers, so her uniform’s different. She’s scholarship, but Core scholarship, not Rim scholarship, and even Jackie, still trying to figure out the culture and nuances of the Core, can tell there’s an important difference.

She’s beautiful and tough and she doesn’t punch Jackie or take her books or make fun of her uniform. She just joins them at lunch one day and when Church starts to make fun of people, Tex joins in without even a second’s hesitation.

She starts to hang out with them sometimes. At first, Jackie’s not sure what to think about that; Tex gets bored in the library and prefers to punch her way out of problems than to run from them or to screw with their heads. 

She’s really more of Church’s friend than Jackie’s. Jackie gets the feeling that Tex is distinctly unimpressed with her. Which hurts a little, because Tex is cool and pretty, even if she’s a bit mean sometimes. But Jackie’s used to people not liking her. 

Then one of the older girls rips up one of the few pictures Jackie brought from home. 

Jackie doesn’t leave her room all weekend, crying and missing home and wondering how much her parents would hate her if she flunked out so they’d send her back. 

Church tries to come visit her. She doesn’t let him in. 

When she comes out of her room, she finds two things. 

A digital version of the photograph has been emailed to her account. She can see the tape holding it together, but it’s intact, and that’s what really matters. 

And the girl who did it has a giant black eye and won’t even look at Jackie. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” Jackie says to Tex, because who else would it have been? 

Tex glances up at her. “She made you cry,” Tex says. “Seemed like she deserve it.” 

Jackie smiles tentatively at Tex, and sits down next to her, closer than she’s let herself sit before. 

After that, it’s different. Tex is her friend too, now. Jackie learns to be willing to put down her books every now and then to go follow Tex on whatever weird thing she wants to do that day--scale the fence and go into town, play a prank on the sports teams, break into the school gym and play loud music at midnight. 

Jackie’s never done anything like that before in her life, and Church hasn’t, either. She loves this, spending time with them. Church tells stories; all sorts, both real and fictional. He’s good with words, and he knows a lot of things. 

They play games; Church breaks couples up, Jackie sets them up, Tex places bets on it. Tex, Jackie learns, is poor, despite being from the Core. She never tells Tex that Core poor sounds pretty comfortable, really, because that’d be rude. Tex splits her winnings, sometimes, which is nice, since Mom and Dad haven’t been able to send much, with David being at the military academy. Mitch is helping out on the ranch, but Martha’s apprenticeship to a mechanic had to be paid for, and extra things for Jackie--spare uniforms, new glasses, some decent clothes to wear into town on their free weekends--have to fall to the side. Everything’s more expensive in the Core. 

Church is rich, they learn. His father’s someone important, his mother is dead, he also has a sister at the military academy. Her name is Carolina. Jackie wonders if Carolina has met David. She considers writing to him, asking if they know each other, but she decides against it. 

“Maybe you’ll find them, when you go,” Jackie tells Tex. It’s always hanging over their heads, the knowledge that Tex will graduate before them, move on to real military training, and then the army. She’ll leave them behind. 

“Maybe,” Tex says, but she looks doubtful. “They sound boring though.”

Jackie laughs. “Tex! Don’t be rude.” 

Tex and Church both roll their eyes at her. 

* * *

Tex is not impressed by Jackie when she first meets her.

Most thirteen year olds are generally unimpressive to Tex, who is fourteen and thus that much more mature. But Jackie is a tiny little scrap of a a girl who follows Church around like a lost puppy. She’s... mousy, that’s the best word Tex has. Brown hair that never seems to be in control, blue eyes that never stay still, glasses that never seem to be on straight. 

She barely even seems speak, those first few weeks, and when she does get started, it’s to correct or to ramble, and Tex doesn’t take either of those particularly well. 

She’s a nerd, Tex decides, and she tolerates Church. Which is probably why Church sticks around. That and the adoring look on Jackie’s face most days. Church probably likes the ego boost. 

One day though, Tex learns that one of the jerks that gave Church a black eye last week, who she’d warned off, had gone after him again. 

Tex is planning on teaching them a lesson. A much more painful one than last time. 

When she gets near the corner, she hears Jackie, and pauses, listening. 

“So get out of here! And if I see you near Church again--” 

The guy rips past Tex, face pale and his eyes red. Like he’d been crying. Like he was scared. 

She peeks around the corner, and sees Jackie, looking  _ very  _ satisfied with herself. The look on her face isn’t mousy at all. It’s almost predatory in its confidence. 

Tex’s eyebrow raises slowly, and she finds herself grinning. 

It looks like she’s underestimated Jackie. 

Tex resolves to pay more attention to her from then on. 

* * *

When they’re fifteen, Church and Tex start dating.

Jackie’s fine with that; she’s glad they’ve finally stopped dancing around it, because they’ve obviously liked each other for ages, even if it means they’re too busy for her a lot of the time, instead spending their days just hanging out with just each other.

It’s fine, she tells herself, as she watches them walk away, holding hands. She has other friends. She’s good at making friends, now that the bullies are too scared of Tex to go after her. She spends more time with other people, focuses on her studies more. She runs a successful campaign to get one of the nicest girls in the class the title of homecoming queen, utterly humiliating the girl who’d been so sure she’d win, and probably would have if she hadn’t cheated off Church’s test last week. 

But she doesn't get to share it with the other two, and Jackie pauses, missing them, even though they’re right across the common room from her. But they’re holding hands and laughing, and she doesn’t want to get in the way. 

So she goes back to the library to study more. 

Tex and Church lasts two months, a week and three days before they break up for the first time. There’s a huge row, a lot of broken china plates, and they both get detention for a week. They try to pass along angry messages through her and yell a lot. 

Jackie’s bewildered, unsure of what to do or how to handle this. This is nothing like the relationships she saw back on Iowa. It lasts three whole days before she catches them making out in a broom closet. 

Soon she gets used to it; the regular ups and downs, the breakups, the fights, the getting back together, the blissful weeks between those points, where things are calm and they’re getting along.

It’s not perfect; every time they break up, they tend to yank her back and forth like it’s a game of tug-of-war, and they tend to ignore her when they’re together, busy gazing at each other and kissing in corners. Jackie alternates between feeling harried and stressed and lonely and sad. She sleeps fitfully at night, missing the time before. 

Jackie tries to date other people herself, trying to see what the big deal is. But they all tend to be boring, and every time she hangs out with them, she keeps thinking of Church or Tex, and that’s not fair on anyone, so she always ends it quickly. She’s not sure Tex or Church ever even notice any of them. 

She gives up on that endeavor pretty quickly, and goes back to trying to make sure the two of them don’t forget to hand in their homework when they’re dating and passing messages between them when they’re broken up. 

She sits on a couch across from them, while they cuddle and talk about a vid they went to see yesterday, and Jackie reads her book and tries to ignore the nasty, clawing feeling in her stomach. 

It’s fine, she reminds herself. It’s a waste of time, being jealous. What she’s jealous of, she’s never quite sure. Is she jealous of Church? Of Tex? Of both of them, for having something like that? Is it even jealousy, or is it just her being bitter that they’re leaving her behind? 

She’s never sure. She wishes that it would just go away though. It’s making things harder, when she should just be happy for them. 

Then comes the big one. The nasty one.

Jackie isn’t even sure what it’s about, but this time, she thinks, they might be broken up for good. Tex is furious, spitting mad, and Church is quietly sulking. They don’t even want to talk to each other through her, and every time they meet, they yell and fight again, making Jackie want to run away until the dust settles. She splits her time between the two of them as best she can, trying to help keep them apart to avoid hurt feelings.

“He’s just such a  _ jerk _ ,” Tex says. They’re on the roof of the school, which they’re not supposed to be, but Jackie’s bad at telling Tex she’s scared to do things. Jackie hasn’t ever managed to convey to Tex just how horrible it would be, to go back to the Rim. Tex hates school, most days, and misses home. So does Church.

Jackie misses her family, but she does not miss the Rim. She doesn’t miss hungry nights or dust storms or schools where the teachers don’t know what to do with her. She doesn’t miss no one else being able to follow her rapid fire train of thoughts or to  _ see _ things. Even her family was slow, most days. She misses them like crazy, but she still has letters, and she  _ needs this _ . She needs to  _ do something _ . She needs to  _ matter _ . 

She knows what everyone sees. A girl in second hand clothes, clinging to her scholarship with everything she has, competing to be the smartest to stand out, to prove herself. But all her awards can’t erase the Rim accent, all her fancy books don’t change the fact that she slips into farm idioms on occasion, and all of her hard work doesn’t make her uniform fit better or fix the scuffs on her shoes. 

She’ll always be the girl from the Rim, but back home, she’d just be a useless burnout with hands too soft to use a hoe, so she’ll suck it up and take it. 

This world is bright and real and clever and she loves it, even if she hates what it stands for. And she’ll do anything to stay here. 

“He can be, yeah,” she says, staring upwards, trying to see if she can make out any constellations. The stars aren’t real here. They’re projections. She wonders what the stars look like, back home.

“He doesn’t control me, why doesn’t he get that? Why can’t he just trust me?” Tex asks.

“He’s stupid, sometimes,” Jackie says, leaning against Tex’s arm. “He’s a  _ boy _ .”

Tex lets out a huff. “Sometimes I’m sick of boys.” Then she leans away from Jackie, as if she just saw something. 

Jackie lifts her face up to look at Tex, curious about what she saw, and then Tex is kissing her.

Jackie doesn’t even hesitate before kissing back, bunching her hands in the thick fabric of Tex’s coat, because she’s thought about this way more times than she should admit, even to herself. Jackie’s never kissed someone before, and the fact that it’s  _ Tex _ makes it even better. It’s warm and nice, almost idyllic. Tex tastes like the sweets Tex stole from her roommate’s stash and it makes Jackie want to laugh, because it’s so perfectly  _ Tex _ . Jackie’s eyes are closed and she tries to convince herself she’s not dreaming. 

Then there’s a clatter of something against the ground--books hitting the ground, and Jackie pulls away from Tex, and she realizes why Tex kissed her in a moment of horrifying clarity.

Church is standing there, looking wide eyed and hurt and the warm, dizzy feeling that had just filled Jackie only moments ago is suddenly gone, replaced with white hot fury and pain.

“Stay away from me!” Jackie pushes Tex away, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.  _ Stupid _ , how could she ever think that Tex would—how could she do that to  _ Church _ ? 

She runs away, and neither of them try to stop her.

* * *

Church comes to find her the next morning. He’s waiting outside of her door, as usual after a fight, hands in his pockets, head bowed.

“I’m sorry,” she blurts out, the second she sees him, clutching her book to her chest. 

He gives her a watery grin. “It’s fine,” he says, but he’s still hurt. She knows he’s only not yelling at her, calling her names, because he doesn’t want to talk about it. If he wasn’t so  _ hurt _ , he’d be making her grovel and cry, lashing out with his infamous temper. She swallows, and tries to make him happy. She helps him arrange a gigantic breakup of the school’s power couple and lets him play his stupid videogames all night instead of making him do his history project. She does it for him, carefully imitating his messy handwriting and practicing his turns of phrases while he curses loudly as he misses every shot. 

She determinedly does not think about Tex, or the kiss.

They’re studying at the library late one night, rubbing elbows while making fun of each other’s fields of study, when Church grabs her arm, breaking off a tangent she was in the middle of.

(It’s been fifteen days since the kiss. Fifteen days since she’s let herself be in the same room as Tex.)

“You like me, right?” He blurts. His eyes are wide, and she thinks he might look nervous. 

Jackie stares at him, confused by the expression on his face. She’s good at reading people, but she has no idea what to say. She doesn’t know what’s the right answer.

“Yeah,” she says, slowly.

“Good,” Church says, and then he leans forward and presses his lips against hers.

It’s different than kissing Tex; Tex was harder, fiercer, more sure of herself, while Church is softer, cradling her face in his hands.

Jackie melts into it just a little, leaning forward, bumping her nose against his. Her mind, normally firing off in a thousand directions at once, focuses on one thing only, and it’s  _ Church _ . He tastes like bitter coffee and his hair is soft beneath her hands and Jackie’s wanted to do this for  _ so long _ . Their glasses bump together and Jackie smiles against Church’s lips. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Tex’s voice is acerbic and cutting and Jackie flinches away from Church with enough force that she knocks over her own chair, landing on the floor of the library in a sprawl.

She stares up at Church, who’s flushing and looking angry, and then stares at Tex, who doesn’t look hurt. Tex doesn't do hurt. Tex looks  _ furious _ . 

The realization that she’s just been used  _ again _ sits heavy in her stomach. 

“I can’t believe you!” She yells at Church, and this time she’s not fast enough, tears flowing down her face. “Both of you! You’re such—” A sob cuts off whatever she’s going to say next and she grabs her books and runs away again.

And again, neither of them chase her. She hears the echoes of their fighting down the hall as she runs as far away from the library as she can manage.

* * *

Jackie manages to avoid them for a full week, which, given the size of the school, is pretty impressive.

They manage to corner her on the grounds. She’s been studying in the small grove of fake trees instead of in the library to avoid Church, but they must have spotted her or bribed her roommate, since they corner her.

They’re holding hands. Jackie struggles with the waves of emotions that threaten to overwhelm her—happiness and jealousy and sadness and anger.

Jackie wonders if they’re mad at her. She can’t figure out their expressions, can’t figure out what they’re thinking. She  _ did  _ kiss them both back. She wonders if they’re going to tell her she’s not their friend anymore because she kissed them. 

She hopes not. She might have other friends, but she doesn’t have other Texes or Churches. 

“What do you want?” She demands, drawing her knees up to her chest. She’s not ready to talk to them. She’s hurt and mad and upset in ways she doesn’t quite understand. 

“We’re sorry!” Church blurts.

Tex is looking at the ground very carefully. “Shouldn’t have done that,” she mutters. “Made you cry.”

Jackie flushes. “It’s—” She stops herself from saying it’s alright, because it’s  _ not _ . She knows that. She’s not just going to be okay with that. “ _ That’s  _ why you’re sorry? Because I  _ cried _ ?”

“It wasn’t right to drag you into our mess,” Tex says, finally looking up. “Not fair on you.”

Jackie swallows. Her throat hurts. It’s not what she wants them to be sorry for, but they don’t know  _ why  _ she’s upset, and she’s not about to tell them. “Okay,” she whispers. “I guess that’s—that’s okay then.” She offers them a smile, wobbly as it is.

They grin at her, and sit down on either side, wedging her firmly between them. The tightness in her chest loosens, even if her throat still hurts. She’s missed this. She’s missed  _ them _ .

“Hey Jackie,” Tex says, pulling Jackie out of her thoughts.

“Yeah?”

“Want to try something? For science?”

Jackie lowers her book. “You always make fun of my experiments,” she says, accusing.

“It’s an important experiment,” Church tells her.

She looks between the two of them, frowning. “Fine,” she says suspiciously. “What do I need—”

Tex cuts her off by curling her fingers around Jackie’s neck and kissing her again.

Jackie freezes this time, refusing to melt, even though Tex’s mouth is warm and firm and demanding. Tex’s other hand brushes against her cheek in a way that’s oddly tender and then Jackie gives in, kissing back with everything she has. This is a dream, she thinks, closing her eyes. Her mind again is hyperfocusing, refusing to acknowledge the existence of anything besides Tex and her lips and the way that Church is pressed up on her other side and how fast her heart is racing.

Church’s fingers dig into her arm, bringing reality back just a little. “My turn,” he says, and Tex pulls away and Jackie is dizzy and then Church is kissing her, with Tex’s hand still warm against the back of her neck and Jackie gives in even faster this time, grabbing the collar of Church’s uniform to pull him closer, and Church lets out a small yelp, which makes Tex laugh, the sound reverberating through her chest in a way that Jackie, pressed up against her, can  _ feel _ .

She pulls away, her brains still not working right. “What?” She asks, blearily and confused. Tex has a hand wrapped around her wrist, as if to prevent her from running away again.

“We like you,” Tex says, and Jackie twists around to stare at her, wide eyed, because she could not have just heard that.

“You like us,” Church offers, slightly less sure of himself. “And well, we like each other. So it makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Jackie’s mouth hangs open, in shock, while her brain tries to process this information. “You… you mean it?” She hates how her voice sounds. How  _ vulnerable _ she sounds.

“Yes,” Tex says, close enough to her ear to make her shiver.

“C’mon, Jacks,” Church says, fingers threading through the hand that Tex isn’t holding captive. “We did the experiment. I’d say it was a success.”

“What do you say?” Tex cups Jackie’s face in her other hand, her eyes oddly serious.

“I—I—”

“Stop stalling,” Tex orders. “I know you’ve got an answer in that big brain of yours.”

Jackie manages to nod, her heart still racing in her ears.

Tex smirks. “Great.” She yanks Jackie forward onto her lap and kisses her again.

They spend the rest of the evening on the grounds, just kissing each other and laughing.

Jackie runs her fingers through Church’s hair and leans against Tex’s shoulder and smiles so wide that her face hurts.

* * *

They have six months, two weeks, and three days before everything changes.

Tex finishes school and gets transferred to the military academy.

“I’ll call,” Tex tells them, pressing her forehead against Church’s, then Jackie’s. “This doesn’t change anything.”

“Okay,” Jackie says, kissing Tex quickly. “We’ll be here.”

And they are, for a month and five days. They message her and have video calls and things are okay.

And then Church gets transferred to the Academy.

Jackie’s heard about the Academy. It’s prestigious and fancy. Only the best of the best get in there. 

She also knows, although Church doesn’t like to talk about it, that Church’s father is in charge of the Academy. And she knows that Church hasn’t seen his father in years. In all the ways that counts, she knows, it’s just Church and his sister, Carolina. (Carolina’s in the same school as Tex now, as David. Jackie wonders if Tex has found them.) 

Church hates his father. But he won’t say no to the Academy. It’s too big, too important. With the resources and the training they can offer him, he can do  _ anything _ . The sky’s the limit. 

“My scores in physics were high enough that they decided they wanted me,” he says, staring at the email. “I—Jacks…” 

“Hey,” she twines her fingers through his and squeezes. “I’ll join you soon, probably. Pysch exams are in a few months. I’ll probably be high enough to make the cut, don’t you think?”

He looks at her. “Maybe,” he says, smirking.

Jackie elbows him in the side. “Jerk,” she says.

He kisses her, leaving his forehead pressed against hers, their glasses knocking together. “Keep in touch, okay?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” she promises. 

Church hates his father. But that’s okay. He doesn't need him. That’s why he has her and Tex. 

Jackie wants to take Church home, someday. Show him the farm and let her siblings pry things out of him and her mother fuss over him and Dad tutt over how skinny he is and feed him until he can’t move. 

One day, she tells herself, as she helps him pack his bags. 

One day, she’ll bring them home with her. 

* * *

It takes Church three weeks to realize what’s wrong with the Academy.

He also knows that Jackie isn’t a guarantee for a spot. Psych students are a dime a dozen, and they aren’t that interested in Jackie from what he can tell, poking around in their computer files every chance he gets. 

_ She can’t come here _ . Church thinks, looking at the face of his roommate after her last“session”. He’s seen the blood on the floors, he’s heard the screams. There’s nothing he can do to stop this, nothing he can do to save anyone, not even himself. They monitor communications, and while he has relative freedom as a new student who hasn’t been pulled for a session, he knows it’s only a matter of time. 

It’s not like he thought, it’s not like they were told.

He doesn’t know what they want, he doesn’t know what they’re planning.

But he does know this. That a girlfriend (or two) is a weakness he can’t afford. They use people against you, in the Academy.

He needs to keep her  _ safe _ . They can’t touch Tex, they can’t touch Carolina, but Jackie’s just a kid from the Rim. No one would care if Jackie goes missing. Or, even if they did, no one could do anything about it, and that’s what really matters. 

“ _ I don’t think this will work. Sorry. –Church _ .”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SERIOUS WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER. THIS IS THE ACADEMY. PLEASE SKIP IF YOU'RE SENSITIVE TO THINGS LIKE. KIDS BEING TORTURED/EXPERIMENTED UPON. Also blood, mind control, manipulation, abuse, abuse of psychic powers, trauma, assumed major character death... there's just... a lot... 
> 
> Sroloc_elbisivni wrote part of this and says they're sorry.

Five months and six days after Church leaves (four months and five days after Church breaks up with her) Jackie gets her email congratulating her on her acceptance to the Academy.

Unlike Church, refusing isn’t an option. 

She’s a scholarship kid. Refusing means going back to the Rim with a useless education and no qualifications. At the Academy, they tell her, she’ll get proper training, so she can help people. 

“What do you want to do with your life, Jacqueline?” The interview is a part of the process. Church just got in, but they’re making Jackie jump through hoop after hoop. Jackie sits very still in her best uniform (the one that cost her every penny she’d saved for a year to buy). 

“I want to be a psychologist,” she says. “I want to help people.” 

“You scored very highly on your entrance exams,” the man says. His eyes are a burning, familiar shade of green. But they’re different than Church’s eyes. Jackie loves Church’s eyes--they’re leaves and springtime and life. Jackie thinks this man’s eyes are dead. Poison, maybe. 

“Thank you,” Jackie says. 

“Tell me, Jacqueline. Have you found your field has helped you to understand people better?” 

Jackie is sixteen, almost seventeen. She has been alone for several months, alone in a giant school without Church or Tex to hold her back in her experiments or to haul her away from her books. She nods. “I do, sir,” she says. “I think it’s helped a lot.” 

He glances at her file again. “I believe you might be just what we’re looking for, Jacqueline,” he says, and his smile is nothing like Church’s. It’s brittle and cold and it causes a sinking feeling in Jackie’s stomach. 

He offers her a hand. “Welcome to the Academy,” he says. 

She takes it. His hand is cold but his grip is firm and she determinedly does not think of Church as she shakes it. “Thank you sir! I won’t let you down.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” he says, and his eyes are cold and cruel.

* * *

 

Jackie’s a week into the Academy before her first session. 

She’s called out of class, and she sees the pitying looks the other students give her. She wonders what this all is about. 

She’s shown to a room where the floor is bare concrete and there are no windows. 

“Hello Jackie,” the man says. “My name is Aiden Price. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Jackie sits down carefully in the only chair in the room. The chair looks odd. She doesn’t understand what’s happening.

“Leonard has spoken very highly of you,” he says.

“That doesn’t sound like Church,” she says automatically, before biting her lip. She needs to watch her tongue. Insulting the son of the Director could get her in trouble. But she hasn’t seen Church all week and she  _ knows  _ he’s avoiding her, so she’s bitter. 

He raises an eyebrow at her, amused by her candor instead of insulted. “Let’s begin.”

“Begin what, exactly?” She asks. She doesn’t understand the purpose of “sessions”. What are they supposed to do? 

He takes a step towards her. “I believe a demonstration is in order. It’s far more effective than explanations” He touches her forehead with the palm of his hand and fire burns through her mind.

Jackie screams.

* * *

 

Church’s head snaps up. He knows that voice.

“Jackie!”

“Shut up!” His roommate hisses. She’s curled up on her side, bleeding from her nose again. “They’ll hear, and then they’ll make you watch her next session.”

Church clenches his jaw shut.

“Don’t have friends, idiot,” she says, coughing. Blood goes onto the pillow. “You’ve got to be  _ careful _ , if you want to survive this place.”

The door swings open.

“Leonard,” the Counselor says. “I believe you’re acquainted with Jackie?” He’s holding Jackie’s arm. She’s got her eyes half-closed and she’s slumping up. His grip on her arm is the only thing keeping her upright.

Church stares at her, panicking. She’s not looking at him.

“I believe she will make an excellent roommate for you. Why don’t you come with me, Lucille?”

“No!” Church’s roommate flinches away. “I’m good, I’m fine, I’m—”

“Take her away,” Price says flatly, and security walks in, and drags her away.

She screams the whole way, too weak to fight but not still shouting curses and protests, begging and pleading. Church doesn't know what they’re going to do with her. He doesn’t think Lucille knows either. 

“I’ll leave you two to get reacquainted,” Price says, letting Jackie drop to the floor. She doesn’t even manage to break her fall, doesn’t even move when she gets to the ground, just lays there, eyes still half shut. It takes everything Church has not to run to her until the door swings shut after him.

“Jacks,” he says, cradling her head in his lap, helping her adjust to a more comfortable position. He knows how much everything hurts after a session, knows how hard it is to get your muscles to  _ move _ . “Jacks, are you okay? You with me?”

“Church?” She whispers, her eyes fluttering open and focusing on him for a moment. Her glasses are gone. Church wonders where they are. They’ll find them soon. 

“I’m here,” he mutters, pressing his forehead against hers. “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

_ I wish I didn’t _ .

Jackie’s mouth parts slightly, her eyes not focusing quite right. “I think something’s wrong,” she whispers. 

“Everything’s wrong here,” Church says. His hand finds hers, but she doesn’t twine her fingers through his like she usually does, she just grips it as tightly as she can.

“Don’t leave me?” She asks. Tears are leaking out of the corner of her eyes, and Church feels helpless and furious and he doesn’t know what to  _ do _ . 

“I won’t. I won’t.”

Church has another session in five hours.

It’s Jackie’s turn to listen to his screams.

* * *

 

“Tex will come for us,” Church whispers in her ear, his arms wrapped around her waist. She’s bleeding from the nose today, but at least she’s not coughing. The coughing is bad. The coughing is when they take people away.

Nosebleeds they can handle.

_ She’ll come, she’ll come, she’ll come _ , he whispers into her mind.

That’s their secret.

That it’s working.

_ Show me again _ , she asks.  _ Show me what you see _ .

There are several versions, but he picks the best one. Tex, in a uniform, breaking down the door. They’re both healthy. They take her hands. They run.

In some versions, she has to carry one of them.

In some versions, they have to leave one behind.

In some versions, one of them is already dead.

So Church focuses on this version instead; on the stark relief in Tex’s eyes, on the way fresh air feels on their faces when they run, on the way Jackie laughs when she feels sunlight on her skin for the first time in forever.

Jackie’s eyes flutter shut, soothed by the potential. Church presses his ear to her back, listening to her heart beat to reassure himself that she’s still there.

When he goes to sleep, he dreams of the Director cutting open Jackie’s brain.

* * *

 

“David!” Jackie writhes on the floor. “ _ David _ !”

“Jacks!” Church tries to hold her hand but her eyes aren’t focusing on him, they’re staring into space. “Jacks! Wake up!”

“ _ David _ !”

The door opens. “What’s happening in there?”

“I don’t know!” Church yells, trying to keep himself between Jackie and the guard as much as possible.

Jackie lets out a scream that’s as bad as any she lets out during her sessions, and Church tries to get into her head to calm her down but it’s wave after wave of panic and hurt and he doesn’t know how to battle through. Jackie’s head is usually an easy place to walk into but right now it’s a mess.

“What’s going on here?” Price is there, and Church freezes.

“ _ David _ ,” Jackie sobs again. “No, not David.”

The Counselor suddenly looks  _ interested _ . “Is that so?”

“She’s having a nightmare,” Church blurts, desperate. “That’s all.”

“Perhaps,” Price says. “But I think Jackie might have been lying to me last session. This requires further examination.”

One of the guards knocks Church aside and picks up Jackie.

Church yells and tries to fight back, but the other guard backhands him into the wall. He tastes blood. 

Jackie looks small and fragile in the guard’s arms. Her glasses are on the floor. 

“Jackie!” Church yells, both in the real world and through their minds.

Jackie doesn’t say anything back.

* * *

 

Everything changes after that.

* * *

 

They’re trying something new at this session. 

Church is restrained in a chair, as-per-fucking-usual, and there’s a screen, which isn’t unusual, but instead of pulling up the visual of a die or some computer program, footage of a battlefield starts playing. 

It’s comprehensive, showing all the angles, and before he can stop it his mind is filling up with the odds of the next wave having tanks and how long the rebels with guns will hold out in their nest up on the north side and when this soldier will fire and he tries to stop but they keep pouring in—

_ 67.2% odds of the Independents making a stand on the hill. 40% chance it will succeed. Introduce aircraft, odds drop to 22%. The soldiers holing up in the supply cache have a 78% chance of trying to make a run for it. 51.2% says they succeed.  _

He can feel Price in his head, plucking and sifting through all the information and can hear him dictating it, and wants to stop but can’t can’tcan’t—

The viewing angle shifts, going in closer, focusing on the Independent’s headquarters, and Church’s mind starts to lay out the possibility of the inhabitants surviving a direct grenade through prodding from Price. 

_ 30% 27%. 59% _

Then the door opens.

Church’s mind suddenly pulls up images of red hair redder with blood, green eyes gone dull and dead, a brown coat torn to pieces, limbs separated from a too-familiar body and it’s all too much to much  _ no please not her i won’t i won’t I won’t _

“CAROLINA!” he screams, and his mind latches onto  _ won’t won’t won’t won’t won’t _ and the images and probabilities of her dead and dying and broken and bloody and wounded and deaddeaddead won’tstop coming and

It’s a relief when he passed out.

He wakes up with Jackie prodding at him, psychically and physically, back in their room.

_ Church, Church, wake up wake up wake up you have to wake up this isn’t good at all at all at— _

“Jacks,” he croaks, and tries to figure out the probability of her next session happening before they could both get some sleep and—

He sits bolt upright, almost whacking her in the head. 

“Church?” her voice is strangled, some of his  _ panicdelightfear  _ carrying over

“Jacks,” he chokes, not sure which emotion to embrace when the images of his dead sister won’t leave his head. “Jacks, I can’t see anything."

* * *

 

Church has nearly three times as many sessions in the weeks that follow. Price is furious, doing everything he can to try to force the precognition back.

Today, Price tried to recreate the first session, and Church is throwing up, unable to keep anything down, while Jackie wraps her arms around him, trying to keep him upright long enough to finish emptying his stomach.

_ You’re fine, you’re fine, you’re fine, _ she whispers in his head, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his face.

Church shakes his head.  _ They won’t stop. But I  _ **_can’t_ ** _ see that again. I can’t I can’t. _

_ She’s fine,  _ Jackie tries to soothe him, guiding him back to her bed. Church’s is currently covered in blood from the major nosebleed this morning.  _ You said she’s the best, she’ll be fine. _

_ But what if she’s  _ **_not_ ** _? What if it’s my fault, what if I showed them how— _

Jackie presses her lips against his forehead.  _ Not your fault. Never your fault. Their fault.  _ **_Theirs_ ** _. _

Church closes his eyes and tries to believe her, even as she wraps her arms around him, holding his head against her chest so he can hear her heartbeat. 

She pulls him into her mind, and Church tries to relax.

It’s the grove back at school today—the grass is fake beneath their feet, but it’s  _ there _ , and Church can savor it, because it’s something other than concrete and blood. They turn the corner, the lowest branches of the trees brushing against their faces, and Church smiles as he sees Tex, waiting for them.

The door bursts open, and Church stumbles out of the fantasy, just in time to feel Jackie pulled away from him.

He’s grabbed too, which is  _ wrong _ , they never take both of them, that doesn’t make sense.

They’re pushed in separate directions, and Jackie yells his name, and Church yells hers, but the guards don’t react at all, pulling them apart.

Church goes to one of the main session rooms, and Price is waiting for him.

“Always good to see you,” Price says, as the guards manhandle Church into the chair. The restraints go around his wrists and his ankles as usual, but today there’s one around his forehead too. That’s never a good sign.

“Fuck you,” Church snaps, testing the bonds without any hope of them coming undone. They never have before.

“Hmm,” Price says, raising an eyebrow.

“Sir,” a female orderly pokes her head in. Church knows her. She runs the soldier section of the program. Church frowns, wondering what she’s doing. “Subject Sigma is in the ring and ready to go. Is the psychic ready?”

Church freezes.

“She is,” Price says.

“What?” Church yells, trying to turn to see the orderly better.

“We have plenty of psychics, Church,” Price says, kneeling in front of him. “Jackie’s… significantly less useful. And our soldiers always need to test themselves.”

A screen turns on behind him, and Church sees the arena, with Jackie standing in the middle of it.

“No,” Church whispers, eyes wide as a huge, hulking guy wearing black throws Jackie backwards.

“Of course,” Price says. “Jackie’s link with you is still open.” He smiles. “If you were to see the future, I suppose you could tell her how to survive.”

Church’s mouth tastes like ashes. He reaches out through the link. Jackie’s not thinking in words. It’s a blur of  _ runhurtfearhurtrunCHURCH. _

The soldier grabs Jackie by the throat and presses her against the wall, choking her. Church feels her pain through their link, feels the way the fingers are pressed against her trachea and the way her lungs burn and—

Church screams.

_ LET ME GO.  _ The force of Jackie’s mental command reverberates through the link, and Church’s hands unclench instinctively, even though he’s never been compelled to obey Jackie’s manipulations. 

And on the screen in front of him, Sigma’s grip falters for a moment, long enough for Jackie to break free. 

She collapses onto the ground and starts crawling away. 

“She’s getting better,” Price says. “Unfortunately, I doubt that trick will work again. Sigma is  _ very  _ good at shielding his mind.” 

Church watches Sigma stride towards Jackie, who’s struggling to get onto her feet again, and he’s got a grenade, and Church freezes, remembering Carolina. 

_ Jacks! Dodge right and then roll _ ! He screams through their link, and Jackie scrambles to listen to him, relief pouring back to him. 

Sigma doesn’t lay another hand on her for the rest of the round.    

Price smiles at him in that bland, meaningless way of his, pressing his palm against Church’s forehead, but there’s no pain this time. He’s just checking that everything’s back in place. “Very good,” he says, a satisfied look in his eyes. “I think Jackie won’t be needing to go into the arena again, don’t you agree?”

Church is drenched in sweat and miserable, shaking from head to toe in the restraints. Probabilities and possibilities and statistics swirl in his head again, and Church knows that if he opens his mouth only numbers will come out so he clenches his fists instead of replying.

Price digs his fingers into Church’s shoulder. “I really should thank you for bringing Jackie to our attention, Leonard,” he says. “It’s such a shame to think we might have passed over such a bright mind. What a waste it would have been.”

Church jerks back, because  _ no _ . That’s a lie, it has to be a lie, there’s no way…

But they hadn’t been interested in Jackie before his first session.

Price is touching him, so Church does something incredibly stupid and follows the path back to Price’s mind to see if he’s telling the truth and—

Price’s mind is fire and lightning and steel teeth, and Church lets out another scream as Price smiles at him, perfectly aware of what he’s doing.

“I think it’s time for you to rest now, don’t you agree? Subject  _ Alpha _ ?”

Church wakes up on the bed with Jackie’s arms tightly wrapped around his stomach, her knees pressed into his back awkwardly. Jackie’s shaking like a leaf and her mind is radiating fear and anxiety and confusion.

“You’re awake,” she whispers, out loud for once. She scoots upward so she can hook her chin over his shoulder. “You slept a long time.”  _ I was worried _ , she adds.  _ I was so scared when they put me in there. Thanks for getting me out. _

“Don’t thank me!” Church snaps, pushing away from her. He yelps as he goes over the edge of the bed. He rolls up onto his knees.

“Church?”  _ What’s wrong? _

“My fault, my fault, my fault,” Church presses his hands against his eyes. “You and Carolina and—”

**_Their fault_ ** **,** Jackie yells in their heads.  _ Theirs! _

_ Carolina’s not coming, she’s not coming and she’s dead and you nearly died and you’re here because of me, and _ —

Church is spiraling, and everything hurts, hurts worse than a session, hurts worse than Sigma’s fingers around Jackie’s neck—he can see the bruises and he wants to scream, so he does, because everything  _ hurts _ .

“Church!” She grabs him. “It’s going to be fine!”  _ She’ll come, she’ll come, Tex will come, she’ll get you out _ .

_ I can’t take it I can’t take it,  _ Church thinks.  _ I can’t take it I can’t take it _ .

That is the first time Leonard Church makes himself forget.

It will not be the last.

* * *

 

They bring Jackie to the arena again. For once, she isn’t drugged, but the guards have their shock batons out, in case she tries anything.

Jackie frowns, wondering if this is a session. Maybe it’s a new kind. Like the way they’ve been cutting open the brains of the new children.

Jackie hears them screaming a lot.

“Hello Jackie,” Price is a non-entity in Jackie’s mind, slipping in under her radar effortlessly. She hates it, hates being out of control even more than she usually is. “Today we’re going to try something new.”

Jackie feels cold. New is never good. New means another three days of headaches and nosebleeds and throwing up.

She clenches her fists but keeps her mouth shut.

“Bring them in,” Price says. Two of the soldier candidates are escorted out, dressed in all black and covered in bruises. They look at her with dead eyes.

“These two have been causing a lot of problems,” Price says to her. “They refuse to participate in the program.”

“We won’t fight for you!” One of them yells.

Price smiles indulgently. “Jackie,” he says in that perfectly mild way of his that still makes her skin crawl. “You will order them to fight. To the death.”

Jackie freezes in horror. “What?  _ No _ !”

Price shakes his head at her. “Bring out Alpha.”

Jackie’s stomach sinks in horror as two orderlies drag out Church.

“Now that the war’s over,” Price whispers in her ear. “There’s a lot less applications for a precognitive psychic. Things are… more flexible.”

Jackie keeps her jaw clenched shut to prevent herself from calling his bluff. Church is too valuable. They won’t kill him, no matter what Price says.

But they’re never afraid to hurt him.

Church screams.

_ Don’t do it, Jacks _ ! Church tells her, through their link.  _ Don’t kill for them, it’s not— _ the thought is cut off by Price, who digs his fingers into Jackie’s shoulder, blocking their connection. Jackie claps her hands over her mouth to stop herself from crying out, while Church’s screams grow louder and louder. Jackie sees blood. She hears a bone snap, and she feels herself crack right down the middle. 

Jackie closes her eyes for a moment, before turning to the soldiers. “Fight!” She yells, pushing out with her thoughts. The subtle manipulations, Jackie has found, are always more powerful. When she has time, to convince them this is what they really want. They can’t second guess themselves, they can’t help it. Her wants become theirs.

But she can also do this—throw all her energy out at once, override them with sheer force of will. It’s exhausting, it’s draining—she can already feel blood trickling out of her nose. But it works.

The two throw themselves at each other instantly, and Church’s screams fade into whimpers as the subjects brawl on the floor.

Jackie watches one of them win. She watches them latch their hands around the other’s throat. She can’t look away--she refuses to. This is her fault. She has to watch. 

Once it’s over, the survivor freezes, suddenly free of Jackie’s command. “What did I do?”

Price nudges Jackie mentally, escorting her forward. “Tell him he wanted to do it,” Price says. “Convince him.”

Jackie throws a look over at Church, who’s staring at her, disbelieving, his mouth hanging open, propped up on his knees by the orderlies. He watched too. Jackie swallows. She still can’t feel him--their bond is still blocked.

She kneels down next to the soldier, touching his arm. He’s kneeling over his friend, sobbing.

“You wanted to do this,” Jackie whispers. “It felt good. It made you happy. You won. You don’t care about this.”

Price’s voice rings in her mind, prompting her.  _ Get up, report for duty. _

“Get up,” Jackie says, staring into his eyes. He meets her gaze, looking dazed and confused. “Report for duty.”

He stumbles to his feet and staggers away.

“I don’t know if that will work,” Jackie begs, turning to Price. “I don’t know if it will stick.” She tastes blood. Her nosebleed is still going strong. 

“Excellent work, Subject Omega,” a familiar voice says, and Jackie bites the inside of her mouth as she sees the Director for the first time in years. “I believe, that with further study, we can find many applications for you and your abilities.”

Jackie feels cold. She can’t meet Church’s eyes as the orderlies drag him away. 

“Assassination,” Price muses, and Jackie hates the feeling she gets when the two of them turn their eyes towards her. “Yes, I believe we can do a great deal with this.”

Jackie wonders, as they drag her back to her cell, if she’s just made an awful mistake.

“Church?” She asks, voice small. He’s lying on his bed, facing the wall.

“Yeah Jacks?” He rolls over and gets to his feet. “Hey, you’re actually upright this time!”  

Jackie goes cold. His eyes are different. They don’t look like they did when she last looked at him.

“You did it again, didn’t you?” She whispers, her shoulders slumping.

“Did what?” He blinks at her.

She reaches up and touches his cheek. Their link is open now, and she feels his raw confusion pouring through. She shoves her memories back, hiding them from him.

“Nothing,” she whispers, the lie heavy in her gut. “I just… you look so tired.”

“I’m always tired,” Church says, and he looks it. “I’m just… so tired, Jacks.” He frowns, finally noticing something. “You’re bleeding.”

“It’s stopped,” she tells him, not even bothering to brush it away.

“They pushed you hard today,” he frowns. “I thought—” He pauses, clutching the side of his head, groaning quietly in pain.

“Shhh,” she places a finger on his lips. Her throat feels tight. “Rest up,” she tells him.

_ When Tex comes for us, you need to be able to run _ .

He gives her a half-hearted grin and gets back on his bed. He looks at her, clearly waiting to see if she’ll join him.

Instead, Jackie lies on her bed, away from Church, and stares at the ceiling. She wants to cry. She doesn’t.

She takes what happened today and she puts it in the basement of her mind. She wraps it up in a neat little bundle and locks it away where Church can’t find it. Along with everything else that Church isn’t allowed to know about.

Sometimes she wants to hate him, for leaving her alone like this. Leaving her with all the memories, with all the knowledge of exactly what’s happening. He can forget. Jackie can’t. She’s tried. Church meanwhile keeps discovering it over and over again, dealing with each awful thing as they come. He doesn’t forget everything—only the things bad enough to break him. Price knows about it. He thinks it’s fascinating.

She won’t be the one to make Church remember this. Or the last time. Or the time before that.

Not when he forgets everything for a reason.

* * *

 

It’s a bad day. 

Most days are bad days, Church has to admit, but today’s a worse day. 

There are two kinds of sessions; there are the normal ones, and there are the ones which Price attends. 

Price has been at Jackie’s past three sessions. They’re showing her off, her ability to pluck people’s thoughts out of their minds. They’ve been using her in interrogation. 

Church’s skill is elsewhere. In the possibilities he sees laid out before him; in the numbers and the possibilities. It’s less concrete. Less useful. Harder to show off. 

Which is good for him, but bad for Jackie, since it means more attention on her lately, now that the war’s over. They’re working on new ways to test him. And they’re more afraid of breaking him. They’ve got plenty of psychics of Jackie’s type. Precogs like Church are more rare. 

Jackie’s nose hasn’t stopped bleeding in the two hours since her session ended. She’s curled up on her bed, not saying anything, even through their link. They must have threatened him again to get her to behave. 

Their cell is nice. There are books and the beds are comfy and there’s carpet on the floor. There are bright colors and there’s even a fake window. Nothing but the best for the star pupils. 

It’s almost easy to pretend that all the furniture isn’t bolted to the floor and that there’s nothing sharp or pointy or even any fabric that they can tear. Nothing they could damage themselves with. It’s almost easy to pretend there aren’t bugs everywhere or cameras watching their every move, and to pretend that there’s not blood on the bedding every morning. That they can’t even go to classes anymore, because they’re too valuable. 

Church grabs a book and moves over to Jackie’s bed. It’s been long enough. Jackie lets him be alone for longer, but Church can’t stand watching her like this, can’t stand not feeling her in his brain. It’s the only thing that makes this even remotely tolerable. 

That and the solid, confident knowledge that Tex will come for them. 

He sits by her feet, and starts to read out loud. It’s a physics textbook. That should do it. 

Sure enough, she hits him with a pillow before he finishes the page. “Jerk,” she says. Her eyes are red and the skin around them is puffy. 

He grins at her with a mirth they both know he doesn’t feel. 

“Want to play chess?” 

Jackie finally gets up, pushing her glasses back onto her face. 

They’re partway through a game when Jackie freezes, her hand on a pawn. Her eyes are distant. 

_ What is it? _

_ A new mind. But I know it.  _

_ What?  _

Church’s range is further than Jackie’s, but Jackie’s more sensitive. 

The mind she’s focusing on is anger and gunpowder and determination. It’s shadows and desperation and...

_ Tex _ ! He thinks, giddiness flooding through his veins, because she’s  _ here _ ! He turns to the future, but the probabilities aren’t solidifying, nothing’s changing yet. 

She’s not close enough yet. Searching. 

They finish their chess game. 

The door breaks down. 

_ There _ . She’s wearing black armor and her face is covered by a bandana, but it’s  _ Tex _ . There’s a gun in her hand which she holsters the minute she sees them, and a small device comes out of her pocket, which disrupts the cameras. 

“You’re alive,” she says, pulling her bandana down. 

“Tex!” Church gets to his feet, pulling Jackie with him. She sways on her feet for a moment before straightening, throwing herself towards Tex. 

“You  _ came _ ,” she says, her eyes wet. “He said you would.” 

Tex holds her for a moment. “Of course I did,” she says. She kisses Church, quick and fast and breathless, and then pulls her bandana back up. “We need to run,” she says. “Can you move?” 

Jackie tests her leg. “Yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...
> 
> I did warn you.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's New Years Eve! Let's wrap up the year with some Firefly AU, shall we? 
> 
> Special thanks to sroloc_elbisivni, who wrote the York section this chapter! Thanks Nina! <3

Doc checks them both over. Jackie screams whenever someone touches her who isn’t Wash or Donut or Church. (Well, Wash suspects she might not scream if Tex touches her, but he doesn’t want to dwell on that.)

“Well?” Carolina asks. They’ve locked Tex in her room for now, with the old preacher keeping an eye on her. She’d fought at being separated from the two, but wouldn’t answer any questions.

“Uh, well,” Doc shifted. “The blood’s all old, but I’m pretty sure it’s theirs? Nosebleeds, mostly, I think.”

“Nosebleeds?” Wash asks, feeling hollow. Jackie’s hair had been absolutely matted with blood.

Doc nods. “Lots of them. Over an extended period of time.”

Inside the infirmary, Jackie has her knees pulled against her chest, muttering to herself. Nonsense mostly, as far as Wash can make out. Something about a chess game.

“What _happened_ to them?” Carolina demands.

“I’m not sure,” Doc admits. “It’s... weird. Physically they seem healthy. There are some signs of sleep deprivation, but cyro mostly fixed that up. Some bruising on the wrists, but it’s weird.”

Wash and Carolina both look up at that.

“Bruising,” Carolina says. “On the ankles, too?”

Doc pauses. “How did you know that?”

“You don’t think?” Wash asks, half turning to face her.

“I think that if they did that to you,” Carolina says, staring at their little siblings, at where Church has made his way over to Jackie and has curled up next to her, like a cat, “What would they do to a bunch of young geniuses, locked away from the rest of the world?”

Wash feels his wrists twinge. He can only imagine, and he knows he’ll hate the answers.

“We need to talk to Texas,” Wash says. Jackie is pressing her hand against Church’s face and crying.

Wash places his hand against the window. “She’s supposed to be at a fancy school in the Core,” he says, anger coiling in his stomach. “Frank heard from her three weeks ago.”

“I haven’t heard from Church since the war,” Carolina says, looking dull. “I assumed he’d cut off contact after I switched sides.”

Wash suddenly doubles over as Jackie suddenly lurches away from Church, crying out.

_Straps around his wrists, a needle in his forehead, pain, pain, wracking pain. Fire flowing through his veins._

_“What do you see?” A man he doesn’t know in the side of his vision. “Tell me what you see.”_

_Wash opens his mouth, and only screams come out._

“Wash!” Carolina pulls him up. “Wash, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he mutters, even though he’s shaking, drenched in a cold sweat. “Just--flashback.” A new one. The drugs they’d pumped him full of while captive had blurred his memories.

Carolina frowns. “We need to talk to Texas. We need answers.”

Wash looks up, and sees Jackie curled into a corner, sobbing. Church is curled up away from her, clutching the side of his head.

“Yes,” Wash says. “We do.”

* * *

 

After Tex tells them about the Academy, Carolina has nothing else to say.

Carolina makes her way to her bunk, avoiding the medical bay where her brother is. 

Epsilon yowls at her, hungry, worming his way between her feet. She dumps out a portion of dry food for him, and grabs her messages.

She scrolls through everything she ever received from Church over the years, ever since the last time they’d seen each other. She saved them all, even the stupid little scrawls and insults.

Now that she’s looking for them, she can see them, hidden in the short missives that he’d sent her. Mistakes. Slowly, painfully, she works her way through them, translating them into the messages she now knows are there.

T  H E Y ‘ R E

H U R T I N G

U S

H E L P.

S H E ‘ S

S C R E A M I N G.

H E

D O E S N ‘ T

C A R E.

C A R O L I N A.

H E L P.

P L E A S E.

* * *

They lock Tex in the cabin and won’t let her out.

As soon as the ship moves into the night cycle, Tex knocks out the shepherd keeping an eye on her and books it to the infirmary. He’s halfway decent for a shepherd, but he’s no match for her.

And after years of being kept apart from Jackie and Church, Tex isn’t about to let _anything_ stand in her way, especially not an old man who tells her to call him Sarge.

It’s night and no one’s there. The door’s locked, and the lights are off. Tex breaks it with ease, seething that they locked them in again. They had been locked away for _years_. How _dare they_ try to lock them away again?  

“Tex?” Jackie calls, her voice soft and distant. She’s sitting on one of the cots that have been provided, looking far away despite their proximity.   

“I’m here,” Tex says, moving into the infirmary.  

“Church is sleeping,” Jackie says. Sure enough, he’s curled up on his side, his head in her lap. He looks peaceful—it’s like being back at school, if it weren’t for the look on Jackie’s face—slightly vague and confused, but also distraught. She hasn’t looked _present_ since Tex had dragged her out of the Academy. “It’s his turn.”

Tex swallows her rage. Why are they taking _turns_? “I’m here now,” she says. “I can keep an eye out.”

Jackie looks thoughtful. “You’ll stay?” She asks, quietly, as if she’s not quite sure she believes Tex.

“Yes,” Tex says, trying not to be hurt. She sits down next to Jackie, who carefully starts shifting Church so he’s between them, then curling around him. Tex lies down as well, carefully laying her arm over Church so she can rest her hand on Jackie’s side.

“I’ve got you,” Tex whispers.

“I know,” Jackie says, wrapping her arms around Church and burying her face against his back. “We’re safe here. Valhalla is good.”

It doesn’t occur to Tex to ask how Jackie knows the name of the ship, when no one’s mentioned it to her.

* * *

In the morning, although Carolina is furious that Tex hit Sarge and broke into the infirmary, she agrees to let her stay. There’s no question about Jackie or Church leaving, either. Carolina is not about to let her brother out of her sight, not after those messages she’s found. And she’s certainly not about to inflict that on Donut or Wash either.

It’s… not great, she has to admit. This changes things. When before they’d tried to stick to legal jobs, now there’s three fugitives who are hiding in her ship. Texas can walk around and help on jobs, but Jackie and Church are… unstable. They talk nonsense and gravitate towards each other, sometimes spending entire days without speaking, only hovering near each other, refusing to be parted at all.

They avoid the medical bay whenever they can, and Carolina has caught Jackie lifting up parts of the floor to hide in at least twice. Church is less prone to hiding in strange spots, and instead has ripped up Sarge’s Bible, endeared himself to Caboose, and thrown things at Wash until Jackie snapped and yelled his name.

Tex is of no help in figuring out these behaviors. She doesn’t have answers for what’s happened to them, and is just as likely to egg them on as she is to try to stop them. “They’ll figure things out,” she says. “Just give them time.”

Carolina’s moved Church into her room, not wanting to leave him alone, and not quite trusting him to anyone else. Some nights he sneaks out, and Carolina _knows_ that he’s spending those nights with Jackie or Tex, but she doesn’t say anything, for fear of driving him away. Meanwhile, Jackie bounces between Donut’s room and the room that Wash shares with Tucker and Junior. A few questions to Wash reveals that Jackie also vanishes at night on occasion.

Carolina has no idea what to make of… whatever it is that her father has turned two bright geniuses into. Jackie, from Wash and Donut’s stories, had been a fiercely intelligent child who had liked books and games. Her own brother had been a giant nerd who had fought with everything and everyone, not a quiet, scared man who hates raised voices.

“I’m sorry,” she tells Church, one night when they’re alone in her room, with Epsilon sitting on her lap. “I’m sorry I didn’t see your messages.”

“You were busy,” he mutters, his green eyes refusing to focus on her, instead darting all over the room. “The war, you had the war, grenades and fire, and—”

“Hey,” she says, grabbing his hand. “It’s okay.”

“Not okay,” he says. “He was there, sometimes, he—” Carolina swallows hard. She doesn’t want to hear this, she _can’t_ hear this, she…

He stops talking immediately and lies down, not even getting under the covers.

“Sleep now,” he says flatly.

“He’s not going to touch you again,” Carolina promises, unsure of what to do with the sudden change in pace. She reaches out and touches his face. “I promise.”

“Fifty four percent,” he says, his voice slow and sleepy. Then he closes his eyes and instantly falls asleep, as if he’s managed to flip a switch. Carolina carefully places Epsilon next to him. Epsilon gives her a wide, offended stare, but settles in, keeping her brother warm while Carolina goes about her nightly routine.

She can’t make heads or tails of the things Church says, sometimes.

* * *

York hasn’t grown his hair out since before he decided to leave the Core, but in his younger, vainer days he had it tumbling to his hips. He still remembers the routine of caring for it, the oils and brushing and pins.

It’s almost as soothing to practice it for someone else, and he can see the tension uncoiling from Jackie’s shoulders as he runs the comb through her wet hair again and again.

“I can braid this, if you want to keep it tidy. Pin it up so it’s off your neck, too.” It would be easier to keep it clean that way, too, but he has a feeling that she’s spent a long time being made to do things because they were convenient for whoever was looking after her. He adds, “It would look nice, too. Highlight your cheekbones.”

“You’re nice,” Jackie mumbles. “Careful. You don’t have to be. They tried to break us and couldn’t. You won’t by accident.”

York pauses, blinked, and continued, puzzling over that. Delta lets out a shriek from his perch, where he’s gnawing on a bone toy.

“Loose,” Jackie says, suddenly. “I can brush it.”

“Okay,” York says, and ran the comb through her curls again.

“I think your friend can read my mind,” York tells Tex later, when they’re hanging out around the table.

Tex cackles. “Yeah, she does that.”

“I feel like you should be more surprised by this.”

“It’s not—Jackie does that.” Her face goes soft, but York knows better than to mention that. “She’s good with people. She and Church used to have this game, where she’d matchmake couples and Church would break them up.”

York hums. It’s a companion trick, when you aren’t sure what to say.

Reading body language, he can understand. Companions are trained to do the same thing, to hear what hasn’t been said. He knows what that was. That isn’t what happened.

But he won’t start tension for no reason. He’ll just have to wait and see what happens.

\--

Wash’s nightmares have been worse since Jackie’s arrived on the ship.

He guesses that’s not entirely surprising, given at the indications that the same people who had captured him had also been responsible for what had happened to his sister. And, going off the few cryptic comments that Jackie has made in some of her more lucid moments, he kind of suspects that he might have been grabbed _because_ of her.

But his nightmares are not only worsening, they don’t make _sense_. They’re not like the old ones, which he had known pretty well, but they’re new and strange and… _worse_. He checks his arms every morning, searching for scars to correspond with the locations of the needles he remembers sinking into his skin, but there never are any there. He dreams of long stretches of time, of other prisoners, even though he’d been kept alone for a short period of time.

His headaches are nearly constant, a loud pounding that’s deafening, and a pain that makes him almost unable to leave the bed on some days.

“I’m sorry,” Jackie says, sitting at the foot of his bed, staring right at him during one particularly bad one. “I can’t stop it.”

“What are you _talking_ about?” Wash snaps. He regrets it; snapping at Jackie these days is almost as bad as snapping at Caboose. She’s not all _there_. It’s not quite his sister, who had been able to give as good as she got.

She throws a pillow at him. “I’m not fragile!” She yells, her voice shaking and unsure, even as she grabs another pillow, climbs across the bed, and keeps hitting him over and over again. Wash throws up his arms to defend himself, but the blows are glancing at best. “They didn’t break me! They didn’t break you! They’re—they’re _bad at breaking things_!” Tears are flowing down her face, but she doesn’t let up until Wash grabs her wrists.

“Do you know _why_?”

Jackie stares at him.

“I’m good with people,” she says, her voice suddenly far away.

“I know, Jackie, but _why_ did they do this?”

“It wasn’t working,” she whispers. “It wasn’t working, or they thought it wasn’t because we were pretending, but then they had you and it hurt too much and I couldn’t help it.”

“… couldn’t help _what_ , Jackie?” Wash knows his grip on her wrists it too tight, but she tries to pull away, and he holds on, because this is the most coherent she’s been in _weeks_ , and he doesn’t know how to handle any of this.

“It worked,” she whispers. “That’s the problem, it worked.”

“You said they didn’t break you,” Wash says, trying to figure this out. There’s something there that he’s not seeing, something _just_ out of his reach.

“They didn’t,” she whispers. “But the other thing did.”

“ _What is it?”_ Wash demands.

Jackie shakes her head, her eyes full of tears. “It hurt,” she whispers.

Wash sighs, and lets go of her. She curls into a ball and buries herself in blankets and pillows.

Wash sighs, and lies down next to her. He might as well try to get some rest.

_“Say it,” the voice whispers. “Say it.”_

_“No,” he says. “I won’t.”_

_Elecriticty courses through Wash, and he screams and screams and screams._

_“Say it.”_

_“Pick—pick up the knife!”_

_The figure in front of him moves suddenly, and there’s a spike of pain, as the figure picks up the knife while the hand that belongs to the voice suddenly plunges a needle into his temple._

_Wash screams, and he turns his head, his long brown hair falling into his face—_

He wakes up with a start, and pushes through the cushions to find Jackie, who is also screaming, writhing in place as if being electrocuted.

“Jackie!” Wash grabs her to wake her up.

She wakes, screaming, her eyes flying open, and then she stops abruptly, staring up at him like he’s a ghost. Then she bursts into tears.

Wash tries to soothe her, brushing her hair out of her face. He scrambles, trying to remember a lullaby or something from Iowa, something to calm her down.

It’s then he notices the scarring on her temple, right where he had felt the needle being plunged into his own skull, moments ago. It looks… it looks like the scar that Wash feels like _he_ should have, after that nightmare.

He thinks about the long, brown hair in the dream, the voices he didn’t know, the tests that didn’t make sense, the rooms that were too large, and were filled with strangers.

“Jackie,” he whispers, shaking her slightly to get her to look at him. “Have I been sharing your dreams?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, gripping at his shirt with both hands. Her face is damp with tears, and she can’t meet his eyes. He’s not sure if she’s talking to him now, or in the dream. “I try to keep you out. I try, really. But I’m not good enough. It’s too _hard_.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, numb as his brain tries to process this information. “It’s… it’s fine, Jackie, really.”

Wash goes up to the others a moment later, his head pounding and his walk unsteady.

He leans against the doorway to the common area, feeling like the world is about to tilt on his axis.

“Wash!” Tucker says, looking panicked. He stands up from his spot at the table suddenly, upending the silverware and the protein bar that he’d been eating. “You’re supposed to be sleeping, why are you awake—”

Wash’s feet give out from under him all of a sudden, and Tucker yells, lunging forward to catch him. Wash sags in his husband’s arms, but he struggles back up, because he has to tell Carolina. He has to _tell her_ , so they can put an end to this mystery once and for all, so they can start to figure out what all of this _means_.

“What is it, Wash?” Carolina is kneeling next to him, her hand cold on his forehead.

“I know what they were trying to do to Jackie and Church,” he says.

Texas appears suddenly, helping Tucker haul him to his feet. “What is it?”

“Psychics,” Wash says, leaning into the warmth and safety of Tucker’s shoulder. “They were trying to make _psychics._ And I think they succeeded.”

**Author's Note:**

> so the reason this AU really got out of control on me way back in the day is because Nina suggested on a whim "what if Jackie was at the Academy with Church" and it kind of got out of control. I basically wrote something like... 14k in a week? And this is definitely a part of what I wrote in the first batch.


End file.
